


A Failed Attempt at Traditional Cardassian Affair Etiquette

by softboypassing



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Love Triangles, Multi, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:48:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26508481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softboypassing/pseuds/softboypassing
Summary: “As long as you’re wearing that Bajoran uniform, we’re allies. Make sure you never take it off!”“I didn’t know you spoke Klingon.”“You’d be surprised at the things you learn doing alterations,” Garak said, a quick and glib lie. Odo caught it and snorted. “Can you even take off that uniform?”“You should know the answer to that already.”Garak and Odo make casual plans, but something comes up. Happens during "The Way of the Warrior, Part 1."
Relationships: Elim Garak/Odo, Kira Nerys/Odo
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	A Failed Attempt at Traditional Cardassian Affair Etiquette

“As long as you’re wearing that Bajoran uniform, we’re allies. Make sure you never take it off!”

“I didn’t know you spoke Klingon.”

“You’d be surprised at the things you learn doing alterations,” Garak said, a quick and glib lie. Odo caught it and snorted. “ _Can_ you even take off that uniform?”

“You should know the answer to that already.”

“True.” Garak paused, tilted his head to scrutinize Odo, his eyes going invitingly wide. “But Constable, as you know, the way you approach clothing and the other norms our solid society demands is simply _fascinating_ to me. I would love a detailed refresher on how it works, sometime.”

Odo didn’t say anything then, just scoffed and walked away, but a few minutes later Garak received a message on his padd as he was opening up his shop. The message was sent through a deeply-encrypted station security channel, and simply said in unembellished Kardasi, _COME TO MY QUARTERS WHEN MY SHIFT IS OVER. THAT IS, IF YOU WERE SERIOUS ABOUT SEEING ME NAKED._

Garak was glad that Odo apparently had some experience with Cardassian affair etiquette, at least enough to keep their relationship, whatever it was, quiet. E resented the traditional forms of secretive messages and roundabout scheduling, would have much rather been upfront and casual every time, but after several tedious arguments (all shockingly bereft of euphemisms) e had seen reason. Garak harbored a suspicion that it was less for his safety and comfort and more for eir dignity (particularly in Quark’s and their Bajoran friends’ eyes), but it was all the same. Of course, had someone Odo respected actually asked them directly, “Are you having sex with Garak?” they would respond truthfully, and it was a crucial difference between them and most Cardassians. Someone they respected, though; that was the central thing. Major Kira and Captain Sisko, almost surely. Possibly Lieutenant Dax. Probably not Doctor Bashir, or so Garak hoped. He didn’t reply to the message, but a few hours later, when Odo walked past his shop on patrol, Garak caught their eye and smiled. That was enough to confirm it.

The anticipation rose throughout the day, thrumming through his body. It had been months since the changeling had last invited Garak over. He needed just a taste of the emotionless and clinical attitude towards sex the changeling had—humans were so _warm_ , so soft and affectionate; one could get tired of it. It was that excitement, in part, that slackened his awareness just a little bit by the time the Klingons appeared in his shop. If his mind hadn’t been lingering so much on the concept of being Odo’s “Cardassian lapdog,” as the belligerent _bekk_ had put it, perhaps he would have picked up the cloying, peaty stench of a troop of that crewman’s friends closing in, and been able to somehow prepare for the sudden burst of violence. Possibly it would not have mattered; he was out of shape, and even at his peak he could not have hoped to measure up to six Klingons bent on brutalizing him.

Lying on the floor in a pulsing, shattered heap of agony after they were gone, waiting for the medical team to arrive, Garak remembered the “Cardassian lapdog” quip again in a very different light. Were the Klingons trying to threaten Odo through Garak, after he had clearly demonstrated his loyalty to the changeling that morning? It was a possibility, he mused (his thoughts regularly interrupted by white-hot stabs of pain every time he inhaled).

Perhaps Odo was a liability for him, or would be in the future. Maybe even more so than the doctor, considering the political state of the galaxy. Carefully, Garak spat out a clot of blood that was threatening to choke him. He would have to consider the question carefully. It was too bad—he really did like Odo, despite his better judgement.

* * *

After dealing with the Klingons all day, Odo was not going to turn down Kira when she showed up at eir door with a datarod of the newest vid by her favorite director, regardless of prior arrangements with someone (who was, in fairness, probably still injured). The vid itself was a piece of abstract theological exploration thinly disguised as a period drama. Kira loved it, and Odo liked seeing her beam and gasp at the effects. Odo had just decided completely that e had no hope of following the plot—something involving the election of a Kai, competing Orb visions, and a love triangle involving the former Kai’s sister and a few military officers—when the door chimed.

To eir shock, it was Garak. His eyes had the shine of the recently drugged, and he was standing a little unsteadily, but the slow subtle twitch of his tail—and the fact that he’d changed out of his torn, bloodstained clothes, and even reapplied his makeup—belied his motivations. Odo sighed. Politely turning down the Cardassian in front of Kira was a challenge e had not wanted to ever face.

“Garak,” e said, in a tone that e hoped was sufficiently exasperated. “Just released from sickbay, I presume.”

“Garak?” Kira called behind em, half standing. “Oh, Prophets, I heard about the Klingons. Are you all right?” Then she was suddenly silent.

“Oh, thank you for your concern, Major, but I’m perfectly fine,” Garak said, without taking his eyes off Odo. “I just really don’t understand why they came for me.”

“If you’ve _decided_ you want to press charges against them, we can continue this _tomorrow_ ,” Odo said with finality and carefully targeted emphasis. E saw the flicker of emotions crossing Garak’s face, but couldn’t track which ones, exactly. “Unless you’ve realized there are more assassins after you, I’m sure you can wait until then. Shouldn’t Dr. Bashir have told you to get some rest?”

Garak narrowed his eyes, but smiled. “You’re quite right, Constable. I just had some thoughts about personal security measures, but I would never dream of interrupting anything. Good evening, Major.” He lifted a hand in farewell, and then ducked off and was gone down the corridor.

Relieved, Odo turned to Kira. To eir surprise, she was still standing and staring with a look of shock on her face. E returned to the couch in a quick, fluid motion, not bothering to pretend to walk, and made a questioning noise at her stiffness once e had reformed enough to have vocal cords.

“I think he was flirting with you, Odo!” she half-whispered in response.

“Garak flirts with everyone who will listen to his chatter for more than a few minutes.” Not technically a lie.

“And you’re not—you’re not doing anything about it?” Odo just looked at her. She was drawn and tense, and then seemed to realize it, and sat down heavily next to em. “I’m sorry. It’s just—when I was growing up, anytime I saw a Cardassian looking—looking like that at someone I knew… it would be bad.”

“Yes. Believe me, I know.” E’d been on the receiving end of the kind of attentions Kira was talking about, plenty of times during the height of the Occupation. “At least, I know Garak has certainly done some unpleasant things, but… I don’t think he would do that. If it helps.”

“No, he’s more the straightforward torture type,” Kira joked darkly. They both laughed, and Odo turned the vid back on. She leaned against em once again. Odo made eir side softer and more pillow-like, allowing Kira’s warm weight to settle against em. It was nice. But a worry was circulating again in the back of Odo’s mind—two worries, really.

One: Garak seemed genuinely interested in em. And though e knew little about Garak individually, e knew enough about Cardassians to know that they tended to fixate, perhaps affectionately, perhaps obsessively, on objects or persons of interest.

Two: the choice had not been fully presented to em yet, just laid out, as a warning. Something to brace emself for. At some point in the future e would have to make it properly. E would have to choose between them—his closest, dearest friend, who e had gone through unimaginable trauma with and who was slowly, tenderly healing with em, who he loved deeply and could not conceive of being without, and the first and so far only person who had not made em feel like a repulsive monster when they were intimate. Maybe when you thought about it that way it was an easy choice. But Odo wasn’t so sure.

**Author's Note:**

> I have so much unfinished mania-fueled ST fanfic on my hard drive and some of them are actually good, and maybe even worth posting? however this was the only one I could clean up and post in a reasonable amount of time without leaving off my LOGH projects for too long. 
> 
> Odo uses spivak pronouns here bc I find it stretches my suspension of disbelief that someone whose ideal embodiment is just a pool of slime would have, like, a gender in any meaningful way. Also there's a reference to Garak having a tail--imagine Cardassians are a little more obviously lizardy, if you will.
> 
> anyways hope u enjoy! comments more than welcome. im @softboypassing on tumblr as well.


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